“Ara ara!”
“Zephyr-sensei, isn’t this a bit too much?”
Kuzan retracted his hand, rubbing the back of his head as he lightly inquired.
Zephyr looked at the over a hundred elite marines frozen into ice sculptures below, speaking loudly.
“The first lesson’s challenge is very important. These youngsters are too full of themselves right now; they need to feel some pressure.”
Kuzan neither agreed nor disagreed, turning around to sit back down, covering his eyes with his teal sleep mask, and resting his arms behind his head.
“Alright, Zephyr-sensei, I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up when it’s time to release them.”
Under Kuzan’s freezing ability, these people would remain frozen unless he decided to thaw them.
Of course, there were various ways to defrost them, such as gradually warming them with warm water. However, this was a challenge for the trainees, and the academy instructors certainly wouldn’t do it for them.
On the first day of the elite training camp, the trainees were frozen solid.
It wasn’t until the afternoon that Kuzan awoke from his slumber.
With the withdrawal of his freezing ability, the white ice sculptures quickly melted, revealing the unconscious trainees inside.
Thud, thud, thud!
Sounds of bodies collapsing filled the air.
Under Kuzan’s freezing power, these trainees couldn’t withstand the cold and had long fallen unconscious.
Now that the ice was gone, without conscious control, they naturally toppled to the ground one by one.
The academy’s medical staff swiftly began checking and treating the unconscious marines.
Kuzan, being careful with his freezing ability, ensured no one was severely harmed—only minor frostbite and no casualties.
While most trainees were knocked out by Kuzan’s power, there was one exception.
Curls sat upright in his seat, his blue eyes bloodshot, clearly exhausted but still conscious.
Even Veroh, with his Ancient Zoan powers, couldn’t withstand the cold.
Curls’ ability to stay awake was entirely due to his extraordinary mental and willpower, honed through rigorous training.
Though the cold pushed him towards unconsciousness, Curls’ willpower kept him awake until the freeze was lifted.
“Not bad at all!”
Kuzan praised Curls, the only one who remained conscious, before turning to leave.
His task was done, and now the instructors would take over the training.
Curls sat silently, making no movement.
The prolonged freezing had left his limbs and muscles numb.
Why didn’t he break free from Aokiji’s ice?
That would be ridiculous.
This was an Admiral, after all!
Staying conscious in the freeze was already remarkable; breaking Kuzan’s ice with his current strength was impossible.
The power gap was too vast!
After experiencing Kuzan’s lesson, Curls realized the terror of an Admiral.
Such power was beyond his current ability to resist, not even giving him a chance to evade.
Unless he could learn Observation Haki, he wouldn’t even have the qualification to face an Admiral.
Other trainees, upon recovering, also felt the immense pressure.
Passing the exam and entering the elite training camp, they undoubtedly had exceptional skills and talent, each with a bit of pride.
But Kuzan’s freezing ability shattered that pride quickly.
They couldn’t resist at all!
Their strength was still lacking!
Only through the elite training camp could they grow stronger.
The first lesson’s challenge not only pressured the trainees but also ignited a vigorous drive, which was exactly what Zephyr wanted.
……
Late night.
Academy dormitory.
Each trainee had their own room.
While others slept, Curls continued his training.
Reaching 3 a.m., Curls was about to end his practice and sleep when a loud alarm rang through the corridors, piercing the pre-dawn quiet.
Instructors banged on doors, shouting:
“Everyone up! It’s training time! Gather at the field in three minutes or face the consequences!”
Hearing the shouts, Curls realized this was the elite training camp, and the training wouldn’t follow normal routines. He’d need to adjust his rest schedule.
No rest tonight, it seemed.
Curls swiftly exited his room, leaping from the over ten-meter-high railing to reach the field first.
During training, trainees weren’t allowed to wear their marine coats, so Curls wore only a white shirt.
He looked like any other young recruit, filled with vitality.
Chief Instructor Zephyr was already waiting on the field.
He, too, wasn’t wearing his marine coat, only black trousers, his broad chest covered in scars.
His silver-grey mechanical right arm stood out even in the dark.
Curls saluted immediately.
“Good evening, Chief Instructor!”
“Very good!”
Zephyr, a cigar in his mouth, nodded appreciatively.
“You’re quick. As the first to arrive, I’ll call you ‘Number 1’ for now. If you prove yourself in training, I’ll use your name.”
Curls saluted again.
“Number 1, understood.”
Other marines arrived shortly, forming neat rows on the field.
Zephyr numbered them in arrival order, the last one being a second late.
Zephyr extended his mechanical arm, speaking sternly: “You, the last one, Number 109, you’re late by a second. As punishment, you’re out of the elite training camp.”
The last marine, recommended by North Blue, had passed the exam with difficulty. He never imagined being eliminated on the second day.
“Report, I object!”
“I was frozen yesterday, not in good condition, and this call was sudden. I was only a second late, why am I being eliminated?”
Zephyr stood before him, his towering presence imposing.
“You want to know why?”
The North Blue marine, under pressure, replied: “Yes, I want to know why!”
“Then I’ll tell you why.”
Zephyr’s deep voice echoed, explaining to him and the others.
“Do you think your enemies will avoid attacking at night because of special reasons? Will pirates spare you because you’re not in top shape, waiting to kill you when you’re ready?
You’re being eliminated because of that second.
It may seem trivial, but on the battlefield, a second can change the tide of battle.
In the elite training camp, I train strong marines. You’re not up to standard, so you, Number 109, are out!
Is that reason enough?”
The North Blue marine was silent, unable to refute.
An instructor led the marine away.
The others understood that eliminated marines would return to their recommending bases.
They also realized the camp’s rules were strict and unforgiving.
Zephyr turned back, his stern gaze sweeping over them.
“My words are clear. To stay here, meet the requirements.
If anyone wants to leave, say now. I’ll arrange your departure.
Anyone quitting?”
“No.” A unified response came from the orderly rows.
Zephyr, cigar in mouth, smirked coldly, pacing within a two-meter radius.
“I’m glad none want to leave, but we still have too many.
From today, your training and performance will be scored weekly. The lowest scorer will be eliminated!”
Tension filled the ranks.
Curls thought of the selection of special forces from his previous life.
This method enhanced competition, urgency, and a sense of duty.
The remaining marines understood:
Only those who stay are the true elites!
……
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